


So Much in Common

by tacos4two



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Jealous Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24223885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacos4two/pseuds/tacos4two
Summary: Gwaine wants Merlin, but Arthur can be selfish.
Relationships: Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin), Gwaine/Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 125





	So Much in Common

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos to my partner for this story idea!
> 
> This is set during kind of a weird point in the show, so think post-season 3 but pre-season 4, but ignore all of the drama that was going on then. lmao
> 
> Enjoy!

Merlin’s reflection smiled back at him from Arthur’s freshly-polished helmet. The final rays of sunlight pierced through the window, casting the armory in a calm amber glow. Merlin tossed his polishing rag on to the table and extended his arms above his head, giving his back a much-needed stretch, and a groan of relief slipped out.

For the first time in quite a while, he had finished all of Arthur’s petty demands ahead of time. Of course, his swiftness was not without reason. Merlin’s monotonous servant duties are typically the least of his concerns. However, when he passed Gwaine in the hallway earlier, his friend shot him a cheeky grin and whispered, _see you in the tavern tonight?_ Then finished with a very Gwaine-like wink.

The corners of Merlin’s lips tugged upwards in amusement, and he gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Gwaine exaggeratedly raised both of his fists in victory then turned on his heel, continuing on his way. Merlin had not stopped working since that moment. Excitement was fueling him: time spent with Gwaine was anything but uneventful.

He properly arranged his master’s armor, then finally dashed off to The Rising Sun. He was looking forward to seeing what trouble Gwaine had gotten himself into this time.

⁂

Gaius jumped as the prince’s voice boomed down the hallway, causing some of the potion he was brewing to spill onto his workbench and eat through the wood. The physician sighed in irritation. A shout bearing his ward’s name resounded once again, and none other than Arthur himself rudely burst through the door.

Arthur looked as if he had just eaten a lemon. “Where is that useless idiot?” came his usual demand. His eyes peered around the small room as if Gaius were hiding Merlin somewhere. 

Gaius recited his typical response, “I thought he was with you, sire.” When that did nothing to appease the fuming prince, he added, “I haven’t seen him since he left to wake you this morning. Perhaps he finished his duties early?”

Arthur’s jaw slackened. “ _Merlin_?” he gawked dramatically and scoffed in spite of his servant. “We both know that’s not possible, Gaius. Besides, his chores are never done. Tell me, how am I meant to bathe right now?” He gave the neck of his tunic a quick tug to allow some air to reach his sweaty chest.

Offering a pitiful, slight smile, Gaius proposed his go-to excuse, “I would check the tavern, sire.” But for once, it wasn’t a lie.

⁂

The muffled commotion of deep laughter, energetic conversation, and a cheerful lute turned cacophonous as Merlin swung open the door of The Rising Sun. It wasn’t difficult to spot Gwaine. He was in the middle of a rowdy group of men playing dice, undoubtedly betting large amounts of coin that he didn’t actually have. Merlin figured it was high time to save his ass.

Making his way to Gwaine, Merlin easily slipped past grisly bounty hunters and ducked under clinking mugs. He tapped Gwaine on the shoulder, causing him to spin around to face him.

“Ah, Merlin, you made it!” Gwaine beamed. He draped an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and pulled him close.

Merlin noticed that Gwaine smelled rather nice. Like pine and lavender.

Gesturing to Merlin, Gwaine introduced, “gentlemen, this is Merlin. Merlin, these are the poor bastards who are about to make me rich!”

The other gamblers didn’t seem to share Gwaine’s enthusiasm, and Merlin was the only one who snickered. So, Merlin faked a toothy grin and muttered so only Gwaine could hear, “you’re losing, aren’t you?”

Gwaine’s gleeful expression did not falter. “Terribly so. When they discover I cannot pay what I offered… well, it’s been lovely knowing you, Merlin.”

Chuckling softly, Merlin nudged his friend with his elbow. “You’re lucky I showed up, then. Let me help you out.”

“So you can get on their hit-list, too? You’re as crazy as I am.” Gwaine gave Merlin a strong pat on the back. “But that’s what I love about you. Show me what you’ve got,” he smirked.

As Gwaine shook the dice in his hands, Merlin seemed to always cough or clear his throat, then would whisper which number to call in Gwaine’s ear. More often than not, that number matched the sum of the dice. Gwaine’s giddiness was through the roof. By now, half of the tavern was watching the impressive match, wondering how the buffoon who was losing sorely before was suddenly on the rise.

Merlin wasn’t a fool. He made sure to provide Gwaine with the wrong number from time to time to keep suspicion low. When Gwaine’s opponent was in the same amount of debt that Gwaine had been when Merlin showed up, he finally tapped out, abashedly sliding a large pile of coins across the table. The tavern goers collectively grumbled from the loss of entertainment, then they returned to their usual activities. 

Gwaine gazed down at the pile of coins like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He turned to Merlin, who was grinning ear-to-ear, and the look on his face remained.

“You’re incredible, Merlin!” he burst, grabbing Merlin by the shoulders. Leaning in closer, he spoke softly, “what’s your secret, eh?”

Merlin mirrored his motion, leaning forward as well. “My lips are sealed,” he murmured mischievously. 

Gwaine laughed heartily. “Guess you’re just my good luck charm, yeah? I mean, look at all of this!” he beamed, motioning to his winnings. “I’ve never been this successful at tavern games in my entire life. I could kiss you right now!”

A heavy hand clamped down on Gwaine’s shoulder, shoving him aside. He thought that he’d been here too long without getting into some kind of brawl, and finally his time was up. However, the enraged face he saw was not that of a disfigured, monstrous bandit who had too many ales; rather, it was the particularly aggravated yet elegant face of Prince Arthur himself.

“I think not,” Arthur grumbled. With no hesitation, he continued prowling forward, grabbed Merlin roughly by the arm, then began dragging him towards the door.

Merlin barely had time to process what was happening. He hadn’t noticed Arthur until he pushed Gwaine away, and now the prat was trying to force him to leave? Merlin wasn’t having it. He dug his heels into the ground and yanked his arm out of Arthur’s grip.

“Merlin!” Arthur seethed as if he had just been deeply insulted. “What _are_ you doing?”

“I _was_ doing this thing called ‘relaxing.’ Believe it or not, _my lord_ , it is something I enjoy doing every now and then,” Merlin shamelessly mocked his master.

“Ah, yes,” Arthur folded his arms across his chest, “your other word for _neglecting your duties_. I’m well aware of it, Merlin.”

Merlin peered at Arthur indignantly. “I finished everything you told me to do.”

Arthur looked unconvinced. “You polished my armor?”

“Yes.”

“Scrubbed the floors?”

“Yes.”

“Mended that tear in my tunic?

“Yes.”

“Mucked out—”

Merlin sighed. “Yes, yes, yes, Arthur! I told you, I did everything!”

Furrowing his brows in confused bewilderment at his servant’s unusual proactiveness, Arthur countered, “well, not _every_ thing. I’d like a bath.”

“You had one this morning!” Merlin whined, shoulders drooping in exasperation. 

“Yes, but—”

“Give it a rest, princess,” Gwaine interjected playfully. Merlin and Arthur’s attention snapped to him. “Your royal bath can wait.” He pressed a hand to both of their backs in an attempt to guide them elsewhere. Under his breath, Gwaine muttered, “you two are drawing attention to yourselves.”

Bristling, Arthur quickly batted Gwaine’s hand away from himself. He was about to remind the lesser knight who he was speaking to, but when he looked around, he found that Gwaine was right: a few small groups of his subjects were speaking hushedly amongst themselves, amused glints in their eyes as they discreetly watched the theatrical trio. Arthur huffed. He begrudgingly followed Gwaine as he led Merlin to a less crowded corner of the tavern.

“Well,” Arthur began, less pompously loud this time, “Gwaine, try not to cause trouble for me. Merlin, let’s go.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Gwaine pouted. “The fun had only just begun, eh, Merlin?” He casually leaned an arm on Merlin’s shoulder and gave him a shake, luring a smile back to Merlin’s lips. Arthur clenched his fists.

“Arthur…” Merlin was speaking in that genuine, sweet-sounding voice he used whenever he was _really_ trying to convince Arthur of something. Typically, it worked in a heartbeat, even if he was urging the prince to do something absurd like accuse a fellow noble of treason. He continued, “I haven’t spent time with Gwaine in ages.”

Except Merlin’s doe-eyed pleading didn’t work for _that_.

“Ages?” Arthur snapped, disregarding that they were still in a very public place. “Really? Because every time I come searching for your worthless hide, Gaius tells me you’re in the tavern! In fact, I think you spend more time fooling around here than you do on your chores! And none of this nonsense started until,” he raised a finger, pointing straight at Gwaine’s face, “ _you_ showed up.”

Gwaine drew his head back slightly, going cross-eyed staring at Arthur’s accusatory finger. His lip curled in disgust at the royal tantrum.

  
Accustomed to dealing with this side of Arthur, Merlin simply rolled his eyes. “Do you really believe that? Arthur, if I spent more than a few candlemarks in the tavern, your chambers would be a disaster. More than that—your whole life would be a disaster,” Merlin leaned forward for emphasis, “Camelot would fall.”

Arthur gaped at Merlin. Gwaine struggled to bite back a laugh.

Eager to end this feud before Arthur could retort, Gwaine chimed in, “that’s enough, gentlemen.” Dropping his arm lower, he squeezed Merlin’s thin waist and suggested, “be a dear and snag me an inn room for tonight, will you, Merlin?” Then, he grasped Merlin’s hand, dropping a couple of coins from their earlier earnings in it and curling Merlin’s fingers around them. Merlin shot Arthur a slyly triumphant look before he dipped towards the innkeeper.

Gwaine turned his attention back to Arthur. If looks could kill, Gwaine would be six feet underground. He understood why some of Arthur’s enemies tremble in their boots. Any sane person would go to great lengths to avoid getting on Arthur Pendragon’s bad side, but Gwaine was quite enjoying it.

“You all right there, princess?” Gwaine teased, testing his luck. Arthur’s ice-cold eyes followed him as he moseyed to his side, both of them now facing Merlin chatting with the innkeeper. Knowing that Arthur was watching him, Gwaine slowly eyed Merlin up and down. “You should learn to share, you know.”

“...Share what?” Arthur spat, taking the bait.

Gwaine smirked. “Merlin, of course.”

Arthur’s eyes flicked to his manservant then back to his knight. The innuendo wasn’t missed. He placed his fist on Gwaine’s chest and pushed him to the wall, not harshly but not gently, either. “I should have your title revoked,” Arthur growled through clenched teeth.

Gwaine raised his hands defensively, but the smile never left his face. “I know you’re tense, and being a noble is stressful... or whatnot. But there are other ways to let off some steam with Merlin rather than throwing things at him,” Gwaine explained, but he figured he had to change his tactics when Arthur’s glare only darkened. “You want him to yourself, I get it—but you won’t even know I’m there. Just focus on the star of the show, yeah?” he proposed, motioning to Merlin who was heading upstairs with a key, oblivious to the pair’s conflict.

Arthur watched Merlin as he joyfully skipped up the steps. Heat started creeping up his neck. He swallowed and looked back at Gwaine. “I think you’ve had one too many, Gwaine.”

That forced a loud chuckle out of Gwaine. “It’s hard to believe, but I truly haven’t had a single pint.” Then, all deviousness melted off of his face. “I’m serious about this, Arthur. I’ve been planning on asking Merlin. You showing up is just an added bonus,” he stated earnestly.

It was always a strange occurrence to see Gwaine be genuine. Gwaine gingerly brushed Arthur’s hand off of his chest then took a step towards the stairs. “I’m going to head to the room before he gets back down here,” Gwaine said. As he walked away from Arthur, he called over his shoulder, “your move, Romeo.”

Right after Gwaine left, an obnoxious drunkard stumbled into Arthur, knocking him off balance. Arthur was _not_ in the mood. He recovered in an instant and viciously grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt. Dragging the nuisance to the entrance, he grunted as he threw him through the doors, knocking one off of its hinges. Arthur ignored the cheers of the men grateful that he got rid of the unsavory character and simply muttered to the barkeep, “I’ll pay for the door.”

He took a deep breath. The wood creaked under the weight of Arthur’s heavy footsteps as he rushed up the stairs.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Presidential Alert: the boys are FIGHTIIIIIIIIIIIIIING
> 
> Merlin is about to get his shit rocked.


End file.
